


Maybes

by Aki_Aiko



Series: Drabbles [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: 30 Days of Puckurt, A Tale of Two Sisters, Bound, Cat!Kurt, Character Death, Dark Comedy, Dog!Puck, Drabbles, Eating Disorder, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Farscape - Freeform, Gen, Horror, How I Met Your Mother - Freeform, Hunger Games, M/M, Mental Illness, Movie Fusion, Multi, Mystery, One-Shots, Ringu, Sci-Fi, TV fusion, The Professional, WIP, Werewolves, Zombies, the ring - Freeform, young adult
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-27
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2017-11-10 21:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 15,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/470642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aki_Aiko/pseuds/Aki_Aiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things I may work on someday.  The chapters are not connected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In a Family Way

**Author's Note:**

> In a Family Way: Quinn's mom looked at her funny and murmured something about the water.
> 
> A/N: Takes place around Auditions, except there's no Sunshine Corazon. This is just weird. I suppose it could be considered sci-fi?

1.

Quinn went to her aunt's over the summer and came back with a confidence she hadn't felt since her social downfall last year. Her mother had looked at her funny when she came back and murmured something about the drinking water, but Quinn didn't care, she felt...wonderful.

With her first step into the music room, she felt a sharp tug of longing as she looked at the other kids sitting in those cheap plastic chairs the school provided. She wanted to make them hers. Her hand pressed briefly against her stomach.

Shuester smiled and called for her to sit down.

2.

She started with the easiest target. Puck was a simple guy, she knew what he wanted, though it only took a brief make-out session before he looked at her with a strange expression on his face.

"What going on?" he whispered. His voice was husky with his confusion.

"Nothing." Quinn ran a hand over his face. "Don't you still want me?"

The next day he quietly followed her around the room and sat beside her, his eyes trained on her even as they practiced their newest dance routine. At night, he snuck into her bedroom and curled up against her. 

3.

Quinn had Puck, but Finn had Rachel, Tina had Mike, Brittany had Santana, Mercedes had Kurt (sort of had), and Matt transferred. That left Artie.

He eyed them warily when she and Puck cornered him in a deserted hallway after school.

"Are you going to watch him beat me up?" he asked her.

Quinn smiled. "Oh, no. We want you to become part of the family."

"What? Are you pregnant again?"

She leaned forward and cut him off with a kiss.

He couldn't creep into her room at night, and she spent the time crying into Puck's shoulder over it.

4.

Finn was a big, dumb puppy. He believed her when she claimed to want to talk-to apologize about what she'd done to him last year. Before he agreed to meet with her, though, he made sure to tell her, in his rambling way, that he loved Rachel, not Quinn.

He pushed Quinn away when she kissed him, and tried to leave, shocked when she managed to pull his large frame back to her. 

Her bed was queen size, big enough to fit Puck and Finn on either side of her. They'd brought Artie with them and he just fit beside Finn.

5.

Rachel confronted them by the lockers.

"How could you, Finn? You said you loved me."

Finn had the good graces to look goofily apologetic. "I love Quinn now. Sorry."

She jerked like she'd been slapped in the face, then turned to Quinn and eyed the hand running along Artie's shoulder.

"It's about sex, isn't it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Quinn said. She left off any insulting nickname she would have used before. They'd be family soon, after all.

"Don't act all innocent. Everyone's noticed how they hang all over you now."

Quinn smiled. "You have lovely hair."

6.

When Rachel showed up, they moved to the floor, wrapped up in blankets together. 

By now, the other kids in glee noticed the way the little group all turned in towards Quinn and followed her every move. Shue just stared quizzically at them before he began the day's lesson, but Santana's voice could be heard muttering, "Freakin' weird."

She knew where to start next.

Despite Santana's protectiveness, Brittany nearly jumped at the chance to get Quinn alone once the ex-cheerleader whispered in her ear. They snuck off together after school, though Britt looked a little sad at leaving Santana behind.

7.

Santana cried when Brittany kissed her, and later they slept peacefully beside the group, hands linked together. 

Quinn and her new family sat lined up on the front row, while the remaining four sat at the top in their own pairings. Mr. Shue seemed confused about the sudden re-cliquing of the group. He even tried to give them a talk but was derailed by Rachel's, "You wouldn't understand, Mr. Shue. It's a family thing."

Tina and Mike exchanged looks while Kurt and Mercedes murmured to each other, heads bent close so that their voices wouldn't carry.

"...okay, then. Places, everybody."

8.

Quinn brightened when Sam joined the glee club. He was cute and a bit dorky but she clearly heard Kurt claim the boy for Team Gay ("I'm on Team Jacob," Brittany declared).

This was good. Now Kurt would have someone like the rest of them did, except Quinn. But Quinn had them. Totally and completely.

Not long after Sam fell under her spell of kisses, Kurt and Mercedes stopped showing up for Glee. Quinn patted Finn knee. He looked so worried. The two of them were supposed to be brothers. They still would be. Mike and Tina would be next.

9.

It was Burt, concerned parent that he was, who let the group into the Hummel household where Kurt had been hiding for the past week since Mercedes first started looking at Quinn with adoring eyes. They found him huddled up on his bed, knees drawn up tightly. He stared at them silently for a long moment, closing his eyes in resignation when his father closed the door behind him.

"Don't worry," Quinn cupped his face in her hands. "I made sure we have someone like you so you wouldn't be lonely."

"Oh, god."

She pressed her lips to his forehead.

10.

Will stared at the empty rows of empty seats in confusion.

"We got a call from Mr. Hummel," Emma said as she stepped into the room. "He was the last to see them."

"I don't get what possessed them to run away."

"Well...I don't know, Will. I'm sure there must have been something going on in their lives that they felt they couldn't share. With me." Her gaze shifted guiltily away. Will wrapped her in his arms at the sight of her tears.

She sniffled into his coat sleeve and added, "Or maybe it was just something in the water."


	2. Clan of the Titans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Titan wolfpack take in a stray.

Quinn led the pack, but Puck and Finn were right below her and, really, did most of the work providing for the family on normal days. But on the full moon, she was the one to lead the pack through the woods in search of prey.

It was on one of these hunts, on a cold November night, that Puck sniffed the scent of a new wolf in the area. The newcomer was male and smelled like blood. Puck veered from the pack and followed the trail of thickening blood until he came upon a brown wolf sprawled on the ground with a hole in his right haunch.

He whined when he saw Puck and tried to crawl away, but Puck was bigger and more forceful, so when he snapped his teeth, the new wolf cowered back down. There wasn't much they could do right now, not in their wolf shape, so Puck sat down and started to lick at the wound. It was the best he could do until morning.

Puck woke up to the feel of his bones shifting fluidly back into place, reforming the mass of muscle and meat of his body into a man's, one with fingers instead of paws, a mohawk instead of a pelt of fur.

He nuzzled his head against something warm, still half asleep. Santana's tired, scratchy voice woke him again moments later.

"Wanky." She stood over him, still naked and her hair wild. 

Brittany, standing beside her, looked equally disheveled, but her eyes were wide and wet with unshed tears. "Did you kill a unicorn last night?"

Puck glanced down to see a pale boy around his own age laying on the ground with what looked like a gunshot wound, though it was hard to tell, what with how the transformation back had warped it into a wider shape.

"He's not a unicorn, Britt," Santana said. She put a hand on her girlfriend's arm, then glared at Puck. "Did you have fun, Puckerman? Because his family's going to come looking for him."

"Hey! I didn't kill him."

"And he's not a unicorn, Brittany," Quinn stepped out from the trees's cast shadows. "He's not human, either. Is he, Puck?"

She gave the young man a long, considering look, then jerked her head for Puck to bring him with them. He hurried to manhandle the other upwards and dragged him along.

"Can we keep him?" was Finn's first question once at the house.

"Does Finnonence have a crush?" Puck asked, smirking at the taller boy.

While Finn stood there sputtering nonsense, Puck leaned closer to where Santana was trying to dig a bullet out of the unresponsive figure laid out on the clan's ratty couch. "What do you think?"

"Eh, he'll live. Lost a lot of blood, though."

Puck licked his lips to savor the faint aftertaste of blood in his mouth. "Yeah."

Their patient suddenly gasped, his eyes fluttering open and darting around the room in a panic.

"Relax," Santana said. "I'm not going to attack you-not while you're lame, anyway." Actually, yeah, she would, and they all knew it.

"Santana," Rachel chided, pushing forward. "Hello. My name is Rachel Berry. Welcome to our clan's home. May I ask for your name?"

The boy's eyes flickered up to her and his mouth worked silently a few moments before he finally said, "Kurt."

"Kurt what?" Santana asked, but his eyes were already falling shut again.

They didn't know how long he'd been out there, injured and alone, but it had to have been long enough to have him teetering between consciousness and sleep. Quinn kicked Rachel out of her room and set Kurt up there, making sure to pile plenty of blankets on top of him. The fever he'd come with was steadily rising, much to Santana's irritation, so she snapped at someone to get aspirin for the store.

"So what do you think?" Finn asked as he and Puck walked to the nearest gas station with the money Quinn had given them clutched in one hand.

"About what?"

"Kurt. What do you think happened to him?"

"He got shot, dude. What else is there to know?"

"He's got to have family-"

Puck put a hand on Finn's chest to stop him. "You really think his family embraced his wolf side?"

"They could have." Finn clung stubbornly to his rose-tinted view of the world. It made Puck sick.

"Yeah? Then what are we all doing out here? Not much embracing going around."

"Not everyone's like that."

Puck snarled and started walking again, faster this time so that Finn, even with his freakishly longer legs, had to hurry to catch up. They didn't speak again the whole day, not even when they returned home with the aspirin. Puck just hurried up to the room he shared with Artie and Finn hung around Kurt's bedside.

Santana wasn't gentle about waking him up. When he didn't respond after the first few shakes to his shoulder, she shouted in his face and slapped at his cheeks until his eyes slowly opened. He was awake only enough to get the medicine down his throat before he drifted off again.

"Who the hell made me the nurse, anyway?" Santana grumbled, twisting the cap back on the bottle. "And i know us non-carny folk must seem tiny to you, do I look like a child, Finn?"

"Huh?" Finn gaped at her as she shoved the bottle against his chest. He looked at the bottle, then rolled his eyes. So it was childproof. It wasn't like they couldn't open the thing. Even Finn could.

Sighing, he sat next to the bed and stared at the newcomer, who was still pale even though he'd been warmed up from the outside chill. 

"How's he doing?" Rachel asked from the doorway.

"I don't know. Santana just gave him some aspirin."

"That's good." Rachel stepped further into the room. "Finn, I-"

Finn stood up abruptly. "I've got to help Quinn with...stuff."

He pushed past her, leaving her alone in the room. Sighing, Rachel sat on the edge of Kurt's bed and fussed with the covers until they were tucked in snug around his neck, then lay down beside him and closed her eyes to hold back tears.


	3. Young Adult

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young Adult movie fusion. Kurt returns home to win back his old boyfriend. What's a wife and baby, anyway? He and Blaine were meant to be together.

Kurt stared at the screen in front of him as if in enthralled.  The baby wasn't even that cute.  Probably took after its mother.  Knocking back a glass of wine, he clicked out of the email and got ready to go out.  He needed a warm body, any body, to help take his mind off this sudden news.  Unfortunately, in the morning, he felt just as empty and had to creep out of some stranger's bed before they woke up and noticed his escape.  
  
In all his years living in New York, Kurt had never met his Prince Charming.  No one could replace what Blaine meant to him.  Sex was just a brief, fruitless attempt to capture that love lost.  
  
Back home, he brought the baby shower picture back up and stared at it, fingers tapping absently on the mouse.  Annabelle Grey Anderson.  Who named their kid that?  It was probably Blaine's wife's idea.  
  
Okay, so Kurt had wanted to name their future baby Toronto at some point, but he was older now and knew better.  
  
"What do you think it means?" he asked Rachel over the phone.  "It has to mean something, right?  You don't just invite an old boyfriend you haven't even talked to in almost a decade to your first born's baby shower."  
  
"I don't know, Kurt," Rachel said, sounding uncomfortable.  "Are you sure it didn't get sent to you by mistake?"  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes.  When he and Blaine had broken up Kurt's first year of college, Rachel had been the friend caught in the middle.  She never said anything bad about Blaine to Kurt and he was willing to bet the same was true of him to Blaine.  
  
"Well," he muttered under his breath.  "Maybe I should find out."  
  
He and Rachel traded a few more words, mostly about how much their hometown sucked.  When they were done, Kurt went back to staring at his computer screen.  
  
It took ten minutes to pack, another five to haul his stuff to the car, with a side trip to his closet for an old mix tape Blaine had made him in high school.  Teenage Dream was his favorite, so he played it over and over on his way to Lima.  Dalton was a long ways away now; so was that wide-eyed boy standing on its winding staircase.  
  
Kurt scowled as he passed the city limits sign for Lima, Ohio.  He'd promised himself he'd never come back here of his own free will-except, of course, for required holidays visits to his dad and Carole.  He couldn't stop thinking about Blaine, though, and about the little girl named Annabelle.  
  
The Lima Inn had rooms available, and it was right across from a bar, thank god.  After all that driving, he could use a drink.  
  
Tuesdays looked to be a slow night, Kurt thought as he went up to the bar.  There were only five other people in the place.  Two straight macho men were playing pool and another sat a table nursing a beer while a couple made out a few feet behind him.  Kurt flagged down the bartender and ordered a drink.    
  
"Hummel?"    
  
Kurt turned at the sound of his name.  The guy with the beer stood beside him, arms lightly muscled and his skin tanned to a golden brown.    
  
"Do we know each other?"  Kurt let his gaze linger while he sipped at his drink.  
  
"Uh...dude.  It's me."  
  
Kurt looked more closely, recognition just beyond his reach.  
  
The guy ran a hand through his hair and chuckled.  "I lost the 'hawk but, come on, I don't look that different."  
  
Kurt nearly dropped his glass.  "Puck?  Of c-course I knew it was you."  
  
Puck leaned back against the bar and raised an eyebrow at him.  
  
"So what are you doing back in town?" Puck asked.  "Did I miss Christmas again?"  
  
"No."  Kurt waved at the bartender for another drink.  "I'm here for something else."  
  
Puck grinned.  "Oh, yeah.  What's that?"  
  
Kurt leaned in close, his mouth against Puck's ear, and whispered, "I can't tell you here."  
  
Puck drew back and looked at him curiously.  Kurt glanced around the bar, then jerked his head towards the door.  He made sure to down the rest of his glass before they left.  His head was buzzing enough to make the world tilt off-center.  
  
Outside, Puck turned to face him.  "Okay.  Nobody's here, so what's up?"  
  
"I'm here for Blaine."  
  
"Isn't his wife having a baby?"  
  
" _Had.  Had_ a baby.  It's a girl."   Kurt stepped off the steps carefully.  He'd called a cab earlier to take him back across the street and it was pulling up to the bar now.  "But that's not important.  Blaine and me, we're forever."  
  
Puck stared at him with his mouth open.  "Wow.  Dude, that's so screwed up."  
  
"It's just a baby," Kurt yelled out of the cab's window before he collapsed back onto the seat as the cab pulled out of the parking lot.  
  
There was only one message on Kurt's cellphone and it was from his dad, wanting to know what he was doing in town and why hadn't he come visit yet.  Kurt stared at the phone for a few minutes, silently debating, then erased the message.  He had other people to talk to right now.  Namely, one Blaine Anderson.  
  
They met up for drinks at the bar across the street the next afternoon.  Kurt made sure to look his best.  He even used a bit of concealer to hide the dark circles that had formed under his eyes and special lotion to brighten his dulling skin.  He looked like his old self again, if no one looked too closely.  
  
Puck was there when Kurt walked through the door, but he looked like he was doing some kind of paper work and barely even glanced Kurt's way.  
  
Kurt was three drinks down by the time Blaine showed up.  He wasn't drunk, though.  No, it took a lot more nowadays to get him hammered.  
  
"Hey," Blaine said as he took a seat at the small table.  "Kurt.  It's good to see you."  
  
"Hmm," Kurt murmured.  He took a moment to look his old boyfriend over.  
  
Blaine looked more relaxed than Kurt remembered him, his hair free of gel and a bit of stubble on his chin.  His clothes were so casual-so normal-it made him want to puke.  Whatever happened to the retro look Kurt had so carefully cultivated for him?  Blaine wasn't even wearing a bowtie!  
  
"...doing now?" Blaine continued.  "I hear you're still in theater."  
  
Kurt's slightly slushy brain managed to put the pieces of Blaine's first sentence together, so he nodded, took another demure sip of his drink, and said, "Yes.  It's not a big theater but it's nice.  We always get a crowd."  
  
Especially when the dinner specials dipped below the normal mark down.  He had to sing in front of a crowd full of elderly customers chewing in sync to the music blaring out of the stereo sitting by the stage.    
  
And they had to perform the same musical over and over: Oklahoma!  This was now a state Kurt would never voluntarily visit.  
  
"How about you?" Kurt asked.    
  
"Well, you know, we had our baby."    
  
Blaine's eyes lit up as he started to talk about his 'little bundle of joy'.  Kurt glanced to the side and saw Puck staring at them.  Sniffing, he turned back to Blaine but the other man had followed his gaze to Puck's table.  
  
"Wait.  Is that Noah Puckerman?"  
  
Kurt sniffed again.  "Yeah.  He shows up everywhere.  I think he's stalking me."  
  
Blaine made to stand up.  "Maybe we should go say hi."  
  
"No, Blaine, please."  Kurt reached out for his hand.  "I haven't even met your family yet."  
  
He desperately needed to size up the competition.  
  



	4. A Tale of Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Tale of Two Sisters movie fusion. Home's not home anymore, even if Kurt's forced to live in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: character death, mental illness

Burt pulled up in front of the house and parked.  
  
"Come on, bud," he said.  Kurt just sat there, so he had to go around and open the passenger side door.  "Let's get you settled in."  
  
"Yeah."  Puck helped him from the car while Burt went around to the trunk.  "Take it easy, though.  You just got out of the hospital."  
  
Kurt sighed and followed Burt into the house, holding tightly onto Puck's hand.  He remained standing in the living room with Puck beside him as Burt went upstairs with Kurt's suitcase.  Carole shuffled from the hallway's shadows, a false smile on her painted lips.  
  
"Welcome home," she said brightly.  "I'm so glad you're feeling better."  
  
Puck's hand gripped tighter, a comforting gesture that helped ease Kurt's nerves.  
  
"Hey," Burt said as he came back down.  "I put your stuff on the bed, figured you'd want to put it away yourself."  
  
"Thanks."  Kurt tugged Puck behind him, careful to skirt around his father, even though it meant pressing up against the wall as he went.  
  
Burt hesitated on the stairs, watching him go.  
  
Kurt's  suitcase sat waiting for him on his bed.  While Puck wandered off, probably to Finn's room, Kurt opened the case up and took out the journal he liked to write in, but when he went to put it where it belonged, on top of his study desk, there was one just like it already sitting there.  
  
He frowned and slowly sat the first journal on top of the other.  When he threw open the door to his closet, his mood dropped even further.  All of his clothes had been replaced by tamer outfits.  
  
"Hey," Puck said, appearing at the door and leaning against the frame.  "You okay?"  
  
Kurt tried to smile.  "Yeah.  Everything's fine."  
  
"She wants us to come down for dinner."  
  
Kurt pressed his lips together.  "Great."  
  
"You coming?"  
  
"Be there in a minute."  When Puck had disappeared from his doorway, Kurt turned back to his closet and yanked the clothes out.  He'd still have to wear one of these hideous outfits, at least until he could find where his real ones had gone,  
  
The fabric felt cheap and foreign against the skin, the shoes threadbare and dull.  He looked...ordinary.  Like every other boy stuck in a small town like Lima.  He took the time to fix his hair, though.  His hair products still sat at his vanity table, untouched.  
  
After procrastinating as long as possible, long enough for Burt to call his name from the staircase, Kurt had to take a deep breath before stepping out of his room and into the hallway.  Burt stared up at him.  
  
"Kurt?  C'mon.  You need to eat."  
  
Kurt lifted his head up and strode down the stairs and past his dad without comment.  Puck sat at the kitchen table across from Carole, and the two of them eyed each other warily.  Kurt scowled at the look of disapproval on her face.    
  
Resting his hand on top of Puck's, Kurt sat down and picked up the spoon in front of him.  They were having soup for dinner.  Minestrone was Kurt's favorite.    
  
"So," Carole said brightly.  "Finn's bringing Quinn here for dinner next week.  We'll have to make something extra special for her."  
  
Burt said nothing, just sipped at his glass and stared at the tabletop.  Suddenly, he stood and disappeared from the kitchen.    
  
Kurt glared at Carole.  "What's Quinn coming here for, anyway?  I thought you didn't like her."  
  
"Well, Kurt, Finn is in love with her."  
  
Kurt stood up and clenched his fists.   "How is that any different than my relationship with Puck?"  
  
Carole opened mouth to answer but caught sight of Burt coming nearer.  He stopped at the table with a glass of water and two small blue caplets which she downed with a grimace.  
  
"Everything okay?" he asked.  
  
Kurt, seething at how he doted on her, stormed out of the room.  
  
"Well?" Carole glared at Puck.  "Aren't you going to follow him?"  
  
Puck silently set aside his bowl and left the room, meeting Kurt on the stairs.  Kurt leaned against him with a sigh.  One day at home and he was already exhausted.   
  
x  
  
Downstairs, once the boys were in bed, Carole slipped under her own covers and waited for Burt to join her.  She'd taken special care before going to bed, hoping to look as young and beautiful as she wanted her husband to see her.    
  
But Burt frowned when he came into the room.  He climbed carefully into bed beside her, stiff, trying to keep his distance, so she was forced to draw his arm around her waist for some kind of contact.  He always felt warm and comforting, his scent faintly tinged with motor oil.  Carole closed her eyes, sighing, and fell asleep in his arms.    
  
Burt slid out of bed, grabbed a pillow, and went downstairs to sleep.  
  
x  
  
A sharp cry and a distant banging sound, quickly cut off, woke Kurt up in the middle of the night.  He sat up in bed and listened but heard nothing else, just the noises the house made as it settled.  Still sweating from a forgotten nightmare, Kurt got out of bed and went downstairs for a glass of water.  He had plenty of bottles lined up inside the refrigerator door.    
  
There was a smell, though, one he couldn't quite identify.  Sniffing, Kurt set the bottle down and rummaged through the fridge until he came upon a package wrapped in white paper.  Blood from its meaty contents dripped on Kurt's hand.  He grimaced, tossed it back on the shelf, and shut the door.  No way was he cleaning that mess up.  
  
On the way back through the living room, Kurt paused to adjust the blanket around Burt's neck, making sure he would be warm enough for the night.  Burt might be more Finn's dad than his now but Kurt couldn't help but fuss.  It was an old habit driven by old affections.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
Kurt straightened up and stared at Carole.  "I'm just tucking him in."  
  
"You're going to wake him up."  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes and stepped around her.  "I'm not."  
  
They both paused when Burt shifted.  When he didn't wake, though, Carole turned to glare at Kurt.  "Go on.  He needs to sleep."  
  
"You shouldn't have touched my stuff," Kurt said as a last retort.  
  
When he slid back into bed, he found Puck waiting for him.  
  
"I came in through the window," Puck whispered when Kurt asked how he got there.  "You want me to leave?"  
  
"No."  Kurt clenched the front of Puck shirt and drew him closer.  "Please stay with me."  
  
Puck kissed the top of his head.  "Don't worry, babe.  I'm not going anywhere."  
  



	5. The Professionals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Puck and Kurt are two assassins locked in their own little world. Protecting one little girl changes that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Professional movie fusion

Kurt wakes up on the same side of the bed every morning, usually with Puck's arm thrown over him or a foot tangled with his own. Puck is already up when Kurt opens his eyes tonight, though. He's standing in front of their little apartment window, watering the plant he'd bought a few months ago despite Kurt's aversion to it.

Kurt watches him quietly for a few moments, then sighs and pats the spot next to him. "Come back to bed."

"In a minute, babe," Puck answers back. He's staring at something through the window.

Kurt drapes the covers around himself goes to look. It's the young girl from down the hall, full of bruises and bad attitude, usually looking at the two of them with a kind of hopefulness both Puck and Kurt shy from. They've been burned enough to know.

Always keep your distance.

"What's she doing out this late?" Kurt asks as the girl hurries toward the building.

Puck shrugs. "Kid's got it rough. Probably just wanted to get out for a while."

Kurt runs a hand up Puck’s neck and through his mohawked hairdo. He knows enough about Puck's past to know it was just as screwed up as his own had been. They were both screwed up. It’s what made them perfect for each other.

"Come back to bed," Kurt murmurs again. 

The gun hidden in the window sill remains untouched, for now.

x

When it came time to deal with business, Kurt was the one who did the talking. Puck just sat to the side, arms folded across his chest, and waited for the meeting to be over. He didn’t really like how much Kurt flirted with the guy across from him-the guy who held all their money for them-but Kurt knew what he was doing. 

Because they had a rule: no women, no children. The rest were fair game. If their benefactor didn’t like the rules Kurt gave him, they walked. That rarely happened, though. The two of them were good. Too good for prospective employers to deny this one major restriction. Sometimes, if Kurt batted his eyes enough, they’d even throw a few perks in for free.

x

The girl down the hall wasn't completely unknown to Puck. He'd heard her name bawled out by her father when he was angry or sometimes when a younger boy went looking for her-the only person that ever went looking for her.

Puck had come upon her once standing in the hallway, leaning against the railing and smoking a cigarette.

"What?" she asked when she noticed Puck staring at her. "I can smoke if I want."

Puck just shrugged. "You got another?"

Warily, she pulled a pack out of her pocket and handed one over.

"Where'd you get them?" Puck asked.

"My mom's purse. She's got a ton in there."

The two of them stood there quietly until the door at the end of the hall opened and Kurt peered out at them. Puck tossed his cigarette down and crushed it underfoot.

"Gotta go."

The girl shrugged. "Sure. I get it."


	6. Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bound movie fusion. 
> 
> Puck and Kurt come up with a plan to not only run away together but steal money from Kurt's mob boyfriend before they go.

Puck got an apartment set up for himself within a week after getting out of prison. It was an old-fashioned place but quaint if creaky. He had only a Hefty bag of things with him, filled with a few changes of clothes, a hairbrush, and a toothbrush. It wasn't a lot, but it was his.

On the way out of the elevator, he passed two guys in the hallway. One was dressed in a suit and tie, obviously mob, while the other...

Puck paused to check him out. Tall, thin, piercing blue eyes that were staring back at him, assessing and cool.

x

Kurt took the coffee mug Puck handed him with shaking hands and sipped cautiously at the hot liquid inside.

"If you can't stand it, then why stay?" Puck asked. If their roles had been reversed, he would have left a long time ago.

"I can't," Kurt whispered. "He'd never let me go."

"It's not like he owns you."

"He might as well, for the money he paid for me." Kurt's mouth twisted upwards at the scowl on Puck's face. "Yeah. I am. Or was, before Lou."

A phone began to ring. Kurt pulled his cell from the front pocket of his very tight pants, then glanced nervously at Puck.

"I have to take this." 

He disappeared into the hallway. Puck couldn't hear Kurt's voice from the couch, try though he might, so he moved to stand closer, careful to stay just out of sight.

"Yeah," Kurt was saying. "Yeah, I know it's been a few years." He paused at the scream that pierced through the walls. "No, it's fine, Dad. Just the TV. I have to go now, okay?"

Puck was sitting on the couch again when Kurt came back into the room, a lost and defeated look on his face.


	7. Sometimes They Come Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just because he was dead, didn't mean he was a zombie-of course, Kurt could just be in denial. Major denial.

Kurt stayed dead for only one day. He woke up on the side of the road and struggled to his feet. His body wasn't working properly, causing him wobble uncertainly as he rose. At the bright lights of an upcoming vehicle, he winced and raised a hand to cover his eyes. Everything seemed really bright, especially the headlights now stopped in front of him.

"Hummel?" Puck stepped out of his truck and hurried over to him, then paused as he looked his classmate over. "Are you high?"

"Wha...no." Kurt's voice was as uncoordinated as his body. His word were slurred like he was drunk.

Puck snorted. "Yeah, right. Come on, I'll give you a ride home. Did you pass out in the middle of the street?"

Kurt's body tilted as they neared the truck. Puck let him rest on the ground, but now that he was closer, the mud,dirt, and blood covering his body and clothes stood out in the headlights.

Puck swore and hauled Kurt back up. "We've got to get you to a hospital."

Kurt shook his head. "No, I'm fine," he managed to say. "No hospital."

The only thing they would find was a heart that didn't beat and a body slowly cooling to room temperature. Kurt was still dead. He'd just come back.

x

Finding a color to match his deathly hue turned out to be harder than Kurt had anticipated. Blue only made him look bluer, red turned his skin purplish-really, whatever color he chose to wear just brought out his deathness.

"What does it matter?" Puck grumbled from his place on Kurt's bed. He'd agreed to take Kurt to school so they could find the guys that had killed him and make them pay. Puck wasn't part of Fight Club for nothing.

"Puck," Kurt said, exasperated. "I don't want anyone to find out what happened. I'm already enough of a pariah as it is."

"I think people are gonna notice sooner than later. You look dead, dude."

"Gee, I bet you talk to all the boys that way."

"Just you, babe."

They both froze when they heard Burt calling Kurt's name. Kurt managed to make it to his bedroom door just as it started to open.

"What do you want, Dad?"

"I'm just checkin' up on you. How late were you out, anyway?"

"Late."

"It was a school night, Kurt." Kurt pushed harder on the door. Burt sighed and let it close on him. "Whatever's going on, come talk to me if you need to, okay?"

"Yeah, Dad. Sure."

When Burt's footsteps finally faded, Kurt leaned against the door and let out a harsh breath. Not that he needed to breathe anymore.

x

Kurt strode in to school with his head held high and his stomach grumbling with hunger. He'd tried eating earlier but his stomach hadn't been up for it so early in the morning. Uh, or never, not anymore. He wasn't quite sure what the rules to being dead were. Obviously, he wasn't a zombie. No shuffling feet or rotting flesh here.

"Hey," Puck said from beside him. "That them."

Kurt nodded and tilted his sunglasses down a bit to look at the jocks huddled together across the school grounds. They were all staring at Kurt like they were looking at a ghost. Which they were, Kurt realized with a sly smile. His stomach rumbled loudly.

"What was that?" Puck asked.

"Nothing. I probably just need a snack."


	8. Cats vs. Dogs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone knew cat and dogs don't get along. Dog!Puck and Cat!Kurt

Kurt bristled when Puck neared him in the school hallway but, aside from a curt nod, Puck passed by without a word.  Kurt let his ears relax and his hair settle properly on his head.  Unfortunately, now that he'd fluffed up all defensively, he'd have to fix it back the way it was.  Thank god he kept hairspray in his locker.  
  
Someone had tied a piece of string so that it dangled down the inside of his locker, and Kurt spent a good five minutes distracted, batting at it and watching it fling around with each  strike, before coming back to himself.  The bell had already rung, he realized, making him late for his next class.  
  
It was probably Puck's fault.  Everyone knew dogs and cats didn't get along.  Puck seemed determined to produce the evidence.  
  


x

Puck aimed the laser pointer at Hummel's desk and watched his head swivel around as he followed the little red dot as it flittered across his textbook.  When Puck swerved it to the floor, Kurt leapt from his seat to follow it.  Unfortunately, Rachel Berry lunged in from his left when he did, and the two of them landed in a tangle on the floor.  
  
"Cat fight!"  Finn jumped up, practically quivering with excitement.  Puck pulled him back down.  
  
"Chill, Hudson.  You're embarrassing."  
  
Finn sat back down.  He was such a Dog, it was pathetic.  One of the main reasons why McKinley sucked at football was because the team was filled with ones who couldn't control their instincts.  The last game, Hudson chased the ball after he'd thrown it and then tackled his own teammate to get it back.  
  
Puck might have been a Dog, but at least he knew how to control himself.  
  


x

Coach Beiste, in an effort to promote teammwork, signed them all up for Glee Club.  Just because Hudson, Evans, and Chang were in it, didn't mean they all had to be.  Puck snapped at Finn when he passed the other boy's seat and if Finn actually had a tail, it would have tucked itself between his legs.  Instead, he sunk lower in his seat and his ears wilted.   
  
"Mr. Schue, I object," Rachel said, standing to face the teacher.  "If this is the kind of treatment we expect to get, I see no point in their being here."  
  


"I agree," Kurt said from where he stood on his seat at the back of the room.  "This is just asking for a disaster to happen."  
  
Tina Cohen-Chang pulled her lips away from Mike Chang long enough to come up for air and murmur an agreement before latching back onto him.  Her gray rabbit ears kept twitching every time Mike touched them.  Puck smirked at the sight.  
  



	9. Untitled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all started with four little words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: eating disorder

It all started with four little words.

'Hips like a pear.'

If he wanted to stay with the Cheerios, he'd have to lose ten pounds in one week. He didn't start out very informed, just ate less and tried to ignore the gnawing ache in his belly.

"That all you're eating?" his dad asked one morning, eyeing Kurt's breakfast of celery and Splenda. 

"I had a really big midnight snack," Kurt lied.

Burt Hummel was a meat and potatoes man who liked his foods loaded with fats and chemicals. He wouldn't understand what Kurt was trying to do, what an effort it took to look his best. So what if his stomach rumbled every now and then? Everything was under control.

Coach Sylvester smiled at him when he finally stepped onto the scale. "Excellent job, lady. Now go join your teammates, you bore me."

Relieved, Kurt went to stand beside the other cheerleaders as Mercedes took his spot. She'd actually gained weight since last weigh-in. He'd tried to tell her that she wasn't trying hard enough. It took a lot of will power and stamina to lose weight like he had.

Kurt tried to bite back a smile at the rush of self-satisfaction that enveloped him. Mercedes was his friend. It wouldn't be rigt to rub his self-control in her face.


	10. Hunger Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt's name gets called during Reaping. The Hunger Games/Glee fusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some details, such as how the reaping is set up, has been adjusted to fit the story.

On First Reaping Day, Kurt Hummel made sure to look his best. Unlike other classmates, though, he always tried to look his best, not just on special occasions. Today, he wore a pair of tight black jeans, a long-sleeved striped shirt, and a black vest, his knee-high boots giving the outfit a bit of edge.

His father was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.

"Dad," Kurt chided. "We do this every year. Lima's never had a Tribute in the Hunger Games."

"I don't care." Burt said, pulling Kurt into a hug. "The last time I see you could be on a TV screen."

"Give me a few years. I'll be hosting an awards show-maybe two."

"Yeah..." Burt patted him on the back and walked him out to his car. "Good luck."

Kurt smiled at him. "I'm sure the odds will ever be in my favor."

"I hate that phrase," Burt muttered as Kurt backed out of the driveway.

The school was dead silent today, as all the kids there sat grouped in the cafeteria by age and waited for Principal Figgins to step into the room. Whoever's names he picked from the container at the front of the room would not be seen again until for any where up to a month, at least until their names stopped getting picked. The closest anyone from Lima had ever gotten to the arena was the final State Reaping and that had been almost twenty years ago.


	11. The Ring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glee/The Ring fusion

The video Puck watched was hard-core screwed up.  His flesh still crawled even though the screen had already gone blacks.  His cellphone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it, sitting on the coffee table behind him.  
  
Kurt stood outside on the porch, huddled in on himself.  He turned when Puck came out.  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
"What do I think?"  Puck snorted.  "Dude, it's just some guys messing with you.  Probably those idiots from the hockey team."  
  
Kurt stared out at the lawn for a moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a camera.  He held it out to Puck.  
  
"Take my picture."  
  


Puck fiddled with the camera and kept his head down, avoiding Kurt's eyes.  He knew this was all just some big prank but still...he was suddenly scared.  
  
"Take my picture," Kurt repeated softly.    
  
He didn't even reach up to fix his hair or straighten his clothes before Puck took a shot of him.  The picture that came up on the screen was distorted. making Kurt's face looked pulled and warped.  
  
"Your camera sucks, dude."  He handed it back to a white-faced Kurt.  "I've got to get home.  Stop freaking out.  It's just some sick joke."  
  
The feeling that something wasn't quite right sat with Puck for the rest of the day.  When he got home, his mother wrangled him and his sister into the car so they could go to the department store out of town.  Sarah needed shoes-Puck did, too, but he'd buy his own.  Once he got the money saved up.

He wouldn't have noticed it had Sarah not pointed it out.  Puck's image on the security screen at the front of the store was twisted.  Pulled warped like Kurt's had been earlier.  He gripped his cellphone and walked away from his family, turning in the opposite direction for they couldn't even see his lips move as he said, "I believe you."


	12. Brittany in Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glee/Farscape fusion

The crew of Moya stared at the blonde girl in front of them, each of them looking pole-axed by her sudden appearance on the ship. One of the DRDs zoomed up and zapped her on the leg to implant the translator microbes into her body.

"Ouch!" She jumped, the fat cat in her arms falling to the floor at the movement.

The little DRD got the cat next. It hissed and began to attack, jumping on the DRD's back and scratching at it with sharp claws.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" John leapt forward and managed to pluck the now scarred thing away. "You're messing with the paint job, shorty."

"I say we kill it," Rygel commented from his throne.

John rolled his eyes, then nearly dropped the DRD in his hands when the cat said, "Well, I am probably going to be horribly scarred from that creature's fangs. You'd attack it, too, strange flying man."

"Lord Tubbington has arachnophobia," the girl said. "He doesn't like shots."

John tilted his head, mouth hanging slightly open as he took her in. She didn't sound Subbacean. "What's your name?"

"Brittany. Brittany S. Pierce."

"Who are you? How'd you get on board?" D'argo hefted his weapon as he spoke, Aeryn following suit.

"Guys." John turned to them irritably. "Ask questions first, _then_ shoot."

Aeryn gave him a look. "D'arg asked questions. Now I'm going to shoot."

Zhaan raised her hands and moved to stand in front of the newcomers. "The universe is a vast and mysterious place, Aeryn. We should not assume that all in it are our enemies."

She turned to look at Brittany, who smiled brightly back.

"You're so blue," she said. "I made out with a Smurf once."

"Smurf!"

Everyone turned at John's shout. He was dancing around like a madman.

"John," Zhaan said, her eyes sweeping over him as if checking for injuries. "Are you ill?"

The others tensed, but John happily ignored them. Instead, he darted around the Delvian priestess and grabbed Brittany by the upper arms, ignoring Lord Tubbington's indignant, "I say!"

"Where're you from?"

"Lima."

"Is that part of Earp?" Aeryn asked, lowering her gun a bit.

"Yes. Yes, Aeryn, it part of Earp-Earth." He leaned forward and planted a big kiss right on Brittany's lips. He'd only intended it to be a quick peck, but Brittany gripped the back of his head with one hand and held him in place, deepening the kiss, and-oh, hey, this was getting a bit dirty!

"Hey!" Aeryn yelled. "Is this really the time?"

John finally managed to pull away. He grinned over at Aeryn. "What? You jealous?"

"It's okay," Brittany said. "You can totally join us. That'd be hot."

Aeryn gave John an incredulous look and hefted her gun back up.

"Oookay. Maybe we should find Brittany a place to sleep tonight. What do you say? Zhaan, little help here?"

Zhaan, a small smile creeping at the corners of her mouth, took the girl gently by one elbow. "Yes, of course."

"Don't forget me," the cat said, clawing at Brittany's pantsleg. He was promptly picked up and cuddled in slim, girlish arms. "I like to sleep with my human. She makes a nice pillow."

John watched them walk away, mouth still hanging open slightly. He could hear Zhaan explaining what the ship was and what their circumstances were-fugitive ship, fleeing from a sadistic guy in leather, yadda yadda yadda. As they rounded the corner, the cat's voice floated clearly to them.

"I'm gonna need a cigarette."


	13. Vampire Slayer Slayers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy/Glee fusion

Kurt was shiny and glowing, full of blood from the hapless victim at his feet.  This was how Puck liked to see him, fresh from a kill.  While Kurt patted absently at his hair, trying to put it back into place, Puck dropped the girl he held and stepped over her body to grab Kurt's waist and pull him closer.  
  
"Mmmm," Kurt hummed.  
  
"You like that?"  
  
"They were so...vibrant."  
  
Puck chuckled.  "Young love always is."  
  
Kurt snuggled closer to Puck's chest and hummed again, the blood of the boy he'd killed giving him a pleasant buzz.  They'd been drinking earlier, and their states on intoxication carried over.  
  
"You know..." Puck ran a hand absently up and down Kurt's back.  "I hear Lima's got a Slayer in town."  
  
Kurt licked his lips.  "Really," he said breathlessly.  "Can we have her?"  
  
"Hey, I'm the Puckasaurus.  I can get us whatever we want."  
  
They linked hands as they walked out of the alleyway, the sight of their latest feeding.  Kurt took a moment to gaze up at the stars.  
  
"But what should I wear to a Slayer funeral?  I already have clothes for the massacre."


	14. Teenage Vampire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina's a teenage vampire-or will be, once her 18th birthday comes around.

1.

Tina gathered up an armful of clothes into her arms and fell back onto her bed with a happy sigh. It had worked! Now she could wear all the gothic outfits her little heart desired. It made her wonder about Principal Figgin's sanity, though. Really, who actually believed in vampires this day and age?

Whatever. She was tired and happy and glad that tomorrow she could walk down the halls without being constricted by a stupid ban on black crinoline. She turned onto her side, burrowed into the fabric that rolled with her, and fell asleep in only minutes.

2.

She almost lost her eyebrows they rose so high up her forehead when Kurt looped an arm through hers as they entered the school. The two were friends, but the only person he ever really touched like this was Mercedes. Maybe she was becoming a rebound friend. He and Mercedes didn't hang out near as much as they used to.

She shook her head as Kurt began to gush about an article of clothing from an old John-Paul Gaultier line up for bid on ebay.

"I swear, Tee, it will perfectly complement my favorite pair of Marc Jacobs pants."

3.

His Marc Jacobs pants rose low enough to show hip bones when he stretched upwards to grab Tina's backpack off the top of the lockers where one of the cheerleaders had thrown it.

"Freaks," she hissed before flouncing off.

Kurt sighed. "At least we know _her_ fate in two years."

"Huh?"

He looped his arm back through hers and pulled her along down the hall with him. "Oh, you know, the big day."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Did you get slammed into a locker again?" She just knew he'd hit his head one of these days.

4.

Something weird was going on. A jock went right by her in the hallway, slushie cup in one hand, and didn't even threaten her with it. Even if she wasn't the recipient of that day's slushie facial, they usually at least loomed it over her as if she were before passing her by.

But what was weirder was the looks she kept getting. She knew her clothing choices made people look at her funny sometimes, but this was different. People were looking at her like she was...unclean or something.

She needed to know what rumors about her were spreading around.

5.

Well. Mike was no help. The moment he caught sight of her, he threw his hands in front of his face, fingers together to form a cross, and yelled, "Stay back!"

Tina stopped and raised an eyebrow (she was going to pull something if she kept doing that). "Mike, what are you doing?"

He lowered his hand, but kept a nervous eye on her. "That doesn't work yet?"

"Okay. I want to know what's going on. Spill." She put her hands on her hips in the hopes of intimidating him. He actually quivered. _Quivered._

"It's supposed to work on vampires."

6.

Tina stared at him, mouth agape. " _I am not a vampire,"_ she finally hissed.

"Not yet."

"Oh my god. Is this going around school? How many people think I'm a vampire?"

"Everybody knows your dad's going to turn you when you're eighteen. It was on the news." He was edging away as he spoke. Tina grabbed onto his arm to keep him from running away.

"Mike," she pleaded. "This is stupid. I'm not a vampire. Do you really think I'd hurt you?"

"I've seen the list you and Kurt made. Can you take me off it?"

God, her head hurt.

7.

"Who should we add today?" Kurt asked as he sat down next to her in glee. All the usual people were there, except they sat far away from the two of them and pretended they didn't exist. Kurt nodded his head towards the new kid, Sam.

"How about him? He looks delicious."

Tina stared at him, appalled. "Are you seriously making a menu out of our classmates?"

He looked puzzled. "We'll have to eat, Tee. Don't tell me you get Noah Puckerman while I'm stuck with the likes of-" He shuddered lightly. "-Brett Holden."

"Wait. Is that Finn on there?"

8.

She left school as quickly as possible. Kurt tried to follow her out the door but she threw a flimsy excuse his way and ran for it, not bothering to check whether or not he bought it. The boy had gotten scary. Apparently, in whatever alternative universe she'd landend it-thank you, Artie, for the term-she had promised her longtime friend to turn him into a full-fledged vampire when they hit eighteen.

He didn't look goth or dress goth, but his attitude had certainly gotten darker. She had a feeling they were both sliding towards the dark side in this universe.

9.

The first thing she said to her mother when she came through the door was, "Mom, people think I'm a vampire. What's up?"

Mrs. Cohen-Chang didn't even look shocked at this news. "Well, if any of your friends bothered to pay attention, they'd know that you won't be turned until you're eighteen."

"Uh...huh." Tina didn't bother to tell her that she only had one friend and that would be Kurt. "You do realize that vampires aren't real, right?"

Her mother gasped and dropped the pen she'd been writing with. "Tina! How could you say something like that? Your room. Now."

10.

She got a phone call from her dad before bedtime. He was halfway across the world, making the line fuzzy and broken. She barely got the gist of the speech he gave her. Something about vampire pride, the rights of the undead people, and something about using the power of attorneys for evil instead of good. Like suing the school for letting bigotry run rampant. They didn't need to, but it would be fun.

She was left feeling more confused than ever, and frightened of what might come if she didn't get back to her own place in the universe.


	15. Little Voice in My Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt and his sister Lizzie have always been inseparable. They would have to be-she's all in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mental illness. bullying.

_The first boy we ever loved was Finn Hudson._

"He's cute."

Kurt glanced over at his sister Lizzie, who sat on the bed while he applied moisturizer to his face. "Yes, he is adorable. He's also adorably taken."

Lizzie leaned forward, chin resting on her hand, and smiled. "Maybe we could get him to...come around."

"You have got to be kidding." Kurt dropped the jar of moisturizer on top of the vanity. "Finn Hudson is as straight as they come. He is definitely not interested in guys."

"Are you sure about that?"

Kurt hesitated. "Of course."

Lizzie peered into the mirror, massaging cream into her skin. As usual, she was pale porcelain, not a blemish in sight. It took a lot of work to look this fabulous everyday. Now, how to get Finn to see it...?

"Kurt," Burt called down the stairs. He had a piece of paper clutched in one hand. "What, exactly, did you buy that cost five hundred dollars?"

The things that boy spent money on. It was probably another coat-or, hell, a scarf. He never knew something so small could cost so much until Kurt latched onto them as one of his 'fashion staples'.

Kurt paused from smearing goo all over his face and flickered his eyes over to his dad. Burt could practically hear him calculating a response in his head.

"I'm waiting," Burt said when the boy paused too long.

"You'll think it's silly," Kurt pouted.

"You're damn right I'll think it's silly. Now answer the question."

Kurt huffed out a breath. "Fine."

He stood and strode over to his walk-in closet, from which he pulled out a trunk. It had been his mother's hope chest, before she'd married Burt. It used to hold their thick winter quilts, brought out in the coldest months, until she died. Kurt had since appropriated it for his own use. To store tiaras.

Burt was torn between irritation over the fact that his _son_ was collecting tiaras-very expensive tiaras if this bill was any indication-and amusement at that same fact. Sure, he knew his kid was girly and probably...well...gay, if he had to be honest, but five hundred dollars?

Kurt picked up one of the tiaras on top and held it up reverently. "It's a replica of the tiara worn by Julie Andrews in The Princess Diaries."

"And you spent five hundred dollars on it."

" _Julie Andrews_ , Dad."

"Well, Julie Andrews is just going to have to take it back." Burt plucked the thing from Kurt's hands, ignoring the boy's indignant squawk. "I want the receipt, on the coffee table, by the end of the day."

"But-"

"No arguments, Kurt. We'll talk about this later. After I get over the shock of seeing a bill that high."

Shaking his head, Burt started back up the stairs. He was at the door when he heard Kurt speak to someone softly.

"See? I told you he wouldn't let us keep it if he found out."

Burt turned, took a few steps down, and peered at his son. Kurt was sitting at the vanity table with his head turned slightly to the side, his cellphone all the way across the room.

"Hey, Kurt," Burt said, his mouth suddenly dry.

Kurt looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. "Yeah?"

"Did you take your medicine today?"

Time for the patented Kurt Hummel eye roll. "Yes, Dad."

"Good. Yeah." Still unsettled, Burt left the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

x

Somehow, the whole fiasco with Finn-what ever did Kurt see in him?-ended with the football player calling him a horrible word and his dad kicking the boy out for it. Afterwards, Kurt sat on the couch in the room he'd worked so hard on and tried, rather unsuccessfully, to hold back his tears as he went over Finn's words in his head.

Had he really been that bad? Such a...a...creep? It wasn't like he'd gone around flirting with him. Really, how smart would that have been, to be openly infatuated with one of the most popular boys in school?

"Of course you're not a creep," Lizzie said. She pulled him into her arms and let him cry on her shoulder. "We don't need Finn Hudson anyway. There are plenty of other boys out there to pine over, better boys."

All that planning-she refused to call it scheming-and this is what came of it. The very boy she'd promised to protect in tears and heartbroken. There was _not_ going to be a repeat of 'the incident'. Nuh-uh, no way. She needed a new strategy, that was all.

She pulled a handkerchief out of the front pocket of Kurt's vest and wiped at his eyes. "It'll be okay, you'll see."

They would just have to wait this humiliation out.

x

_The boy we could have loved was named Sam Evans._

The 'do, the lips, the _arms_ -mmm, Sam Evans looked delicious. Lizzie wasted no time cornering him in the hallway after glee ended. If he didn't see the fabulousness that was Kurt Hummel, then there was something wrong with that boy. It would be disappointing if he ended up being like all the others at McKinley, so boring, so...pedestrian.

Sam turned out to be a nice guy. A little quiet, a little dorky, but nice. Not to mention, rather cute. Lizzie couldn't help but clutch her bag tighter against her side as she hurried through the hallway, the accessory attached to her hip bouncing lightly against the denim of her jeans. She passed Finn on the way but ignored him. The poor boy didn't know what he was missing, she thought as she flounced by him.

"So?" Kurt asked when they met up at his locker.

"Undecided. He definitely dyes his hair, though, I don't care how hard he protests. That color's just not natural."

Kurt grinned at her. "I know, right?"

"What's right?" Mercedes asked, coming up behind them.

"We were just discussing Sam's poor hair choices."

"We?"

Kurt glanced beside him but Lizzie was already gone.

Mercedes shook her head and linked their arms together. "Boy, you are losing your mind."

Kurt bit his lip. He wanted to push her away, to tell her he wasn't crazy-but wouldn't that be just confirming her theory.

So he kept quiet. After all, he didn't want her to think they were crazy.

x

Lizzie tried to talk to Kurt in the cafeteria during lunch, but Finn came along and she glided away to save them a spot at one of the tables. He seemed to be taking a long time deciding what to get, though, so she glanced back to find Finn gone and Kurt staring morosely at the tray in front of him. The casual yet stylish visor he wore shadowed his face so that she couldn't properly see his eyes but she could tell, just from the slump of his shoulders, that he was upset.

"I'll be back," she said to the table at large, though no one even noticed her leaving. Some friends they were.

She hurried to Kurt's side and steered him out of the cafeteria and into the nearest girl's bathroom.

"What's up with Finn?" she asked him once they'd made sure the stalls were all empty.

Kurt sniffed. "He doesn't want me to sing a duet with Sam. He thinks it'll ruin Sam's reputation. Maybe he's right."

"Well, that's just stupid."

"Is it?"

Lizzie frowned and glanced away uncomfortably. She knew Kurt always got Slushied more than the other kids...and Finn had gotten bullied more since their parents' had started dating.

"No!" Lizzie shook her head. "I refuse to believe that it's okay for them to do this. Why should you have to be the only one alone?"

"You could always join Glee Club with me."

No. She couldn't. Something there wasn't right. Not for her. It was like she disappeared the moment they stepped through the choir room doors together.

Kurt sighed. "Fine. How about the two of us..." He linked his arm through hers and steered her towards the bathroom door. "...put on our own show. I still have some connections among the Cheerios."

Lizzie grinned slyly at him. "Do tell. I'm sure it'll be fabulous."

And it was. _Le Jazz Hot_ was the perfect choice. Kurt was proud of himself for showing his classmates how much he didn't need them.

No, he didn't need them at all. As he gazed out into the audience, he could see Lizzie smiling at him.

_x_

The two of them went out for coffee afterwards to celebrate. People kept giving them weird looks, but Kurt just ignored them. People were always giving him weird looks.

"We should really go," Lizzie finally said with a sigh. She was more rattled by the attention than he was. She always had been. It must suck to have a brother who stood out so much. Well, whatever. Kurt wasn't going to let the small-minded bigots of this town win. Head held high, he linked his arm with Lizzie's, and they walked together out the door.

The Hummels were invincible. Nothing anyone said could touch them.


	16. Clan of the Titans 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a bit more of Clan of the Titans.

Rachel felt Kurt twitch beside her, his tossing and turning waking her up from the light sleep she’d fallen into. He was murmuring words too low for her to hear, clearly in distress.

She reached out and shook him by the shoulder. “Hey. Wake up.”

Kurt gasped. His eyes flew open and he looked around the room in fear and confusion. “Wha-where am I?”

“You were dreaming.”

He sat up, wincing, then his nose twitched. Rachel sniffed. One of the pack was making pancakes, their scent masked by its aroma.

“Are you hungry?”

At Kurt’s nod, she headed for the kitchen to make them both a plate.

“How’s he doing?” Puck asked from his place at the stove. He wore a floral-printed apron that was speckled with flour and bits of batter.

“He’s awake.”

Puck grunted in reply. The others were coming downstairs in pairs now, so Rachel snitched a few pancakes from the stack, stole the bottle of syrup sitting on the table, and mounted the stairs. Kurt had a glass upstairs that she could fill with water from the hall bathroom, though she would have preferred to pair breakfast with orange juice, as was proper.

The day after a full moon, everyone walked around drained, distracted. No one even noticed her as she passed by. 

“I’ve got-“ Rachel froze in the doorway and stared at the empty bed. “Kurt?”

She backed out of the room just as Kurt hobbled out of the bathroom.

“Oh, thank god,” she breathed. “I thought you’d gone.”

“Just to the bathroom.”

He winced and stumbled against the wall. Rachel put the plate down on the floor and hurried to help him back to bed. He’d turned an alarming shade of pale, more gray than white.

“It was stupid of you to get out of bed, Kurt. You’re aggravating that injury.”

Kurt made an irritated noise that turned into another pained gasp as Rachel lowered him back into bed. The two of them were snuggled together eating pancakes from the one plate when Quinn entered the room, trailed by Finn, who avoided Rachel’s eyes. Kurt looked between the two of them curiously but, sensing Quinn’s alpha wolf vibe, bit his lip and remained silent.

“Who are you?” Quinn asked. 

“Kurt.” At Quinn’s look, he added, “Hummel.”

It was clear he didn’t want to talk. But he wasn’t the one in charge, so bent easily to questioning

His name was Kurt Hummel, and he’d had a home with a father who loved him and lived in a town that didn’t, even before he became a wolf. Until hunters came calling. They knew who Kurt meant, even if he himself didn’t know what to call them. Quinn’s back stiffened and she nearly growled. Downstairs, the others tensed, looked up, as if waiting for a fight to start.


	17. How I Met Your Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, kids. I think it's about time I tell you how I met your father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been sitting on my harddrive for a couple of years. I didn't like canon at the time (or now, really), so Blaine is older than Kurt and at the same grade level.
> 
> How I Met Your Mother fusion
> 
> warning: reference to gay bashing

_Alicia and Emily Anderson sat on the couch across from their father's desk.  Emily stared at him sullenly while her twin, Alicia, sat up straight and kept her eyes trained attentively on his face._

_"Okay, kids," Blaine said.  "I think it's time I told you about how I met your father."  
_

_Emily groaned.  "Dad..."_

_"Hush," Alicia said.  "I want to hear this.  I'm sure it's so romantic."_

_"Oh, it is,"  Blaine agreed.  "Horribly romantic.  Eventually."  
_

 

 

October 3, 2007

 

_"Girls, you know that the world wasn't as accepting of people like your father and me back then.  Well, back in junior high I got a taste of that first hand..."_

 

Blaine tried to open his eyes but he managed to crack open only one ever so slightly.  The other felt gummed shut, no matter how hard he tried to open it.

"Honey?  Are you awake?"  His mother's voice was soft and worried, so different than her usual strident tones.  "I think he's awake," she said to someone nearby.

"Mom," Blaine croaked.

A doctor appeared on his left side, blurring in and out of Blaine's vision.  He spoke of broken bones and contusions, of head injuries and rehabilitation centers, but Blaine couldn't get all the words to connect properly, like he was hearing half of a conversation.

"If only he wasn't..." his mom murmured.  Blaine didn't catch the last of what she said, but he knew how it ended.

'If only he wasn't gay.'

Blaine blacked out again.  The next time he woke up, the room was empty, only the steady thrum of machinery keeping him company now.  He took the time to look himself over, to see for himself what damage those boys had done.

His left arm was in a cast-he vaguely remembered hearing the bone snap in the fight- and his ribs were taped.  He knew he must be covered in bruises.  One of his eyes was definitely swollen, probably black and blue to boot.

 

 

 


	18. It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen King's It/Glee fusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to start putting tags in note sections. It's getting a bit crowded.
> 
> characters: Quinn, plus Pennywise the Clown. 
> 
> warnings: mentions of death and mutilation of children
> 
> genre: horror

From the journal of Quinn Fabray-Jan 14, 20xx

Lima’s always been a screwed-up town, full of homophobia, sexism, and lost dreams. But there’s something else rotten underneath, something no one here likes to talk about and won’t, unless you find the right people. It’s always the old-timers who talk. I guess they need to get their secrets out, spoken out loud, at least once before they die. Words have power, you know. Power to heal, power to kill.

Frances Adams had been a young woman during the great snowfall of ‘xx, barely over the cusp of thirteen. At least half the town got trapped indoors that year without heat to keep warm. Word never got out to the proper channels. By the time anyone realized something was wrong, over 85 people had died, frozen like icicles: mothers, fathers, babies, and grandmothers. Even the pets had frozen solid.

“I know I saw it, Quinnie,” Frances told me one day when the sun was beginning to dip down from the sky. She took a drag of her cigarette as if to steel herself from fear.

“What did you see?” I asked, afraid to break the spell of her memories.

“A clown with a bunch of balloons, all different colors, right outside my window.” The old woman shuddered. “He smiled at me. And even in all that clear white snow-he didn’t cast a single shadow. Not one.”

I should have called everyone home then. Five children were already dead, two missing. I still have this terrible hope, though, that it’s just a killer, some sick soul made of flesh and blood. Someone the police can actually catch. Maybe not our police, though. They’ve made it a habit through the years to turn a blind eye to some of this city’s bloody cycles.

It’s funny how much I remember about the summer of 20xx. The others have no doubt forgotten, minds wiped clean like Mr. Shue’s whiteboard. Lucky them.

+

From the journal of Quinn Fabray, March 8, 20xx

There’s a pattern to the killings. About every twenty-five, thirty years, kids go missing. Get found dead. And then there’s an event, mass death, and a lull. It has to sleep sometime in between, I suppose.

We upset that pattern once and I’d hoped that, despite everything, the horror was over. But we knew. Why else make that last promise, the one to bring us home?

Evie Stevens was only four years old. The only thing her mother ever found of her was the stump of a foot still in its sneaker.

Ryan Collins, thirteen, was found in front of the high school, his dark hair turned white.

Becky Lewis, nine, disappeared from her home without a trace. But I know where she is. I do.

I just don’t remember.

+

From the journal of Quinn Fabray, June 13, 20xx

There’s no choice. I have to call them.

The latest victim is a ten year old girl named Lacy Groban. Her mother is Shelby Corcoran. Beth’s mother. She was found behind the school, mutilated, barely recognizable, almost hidden behind dumpsters that boys like Kurt are all too familiar with.

Her blood had been smeared on the metal walls to form the words ‘Come back.’

Time to finish what we started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of these little pieces sparks something for someone, please feel free to play in my sandbox. Lord knows if I'll ever get around to these stories and it would be interesting to see others' take on them.


	19. The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brittany 100 words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like much of my Glee fic, written in (or was it after?) 2009.
> 
> warnings: head trauma, character death

1\. 

Few people remembered Brittany Pierce from before the accident, back when she won spelling bees and aced math tests. Santana remembered, though, and sometimes, while nestled against each other at night, she’d trace her fingers along Brittany’s scalp as if searching for a scar that wasn’t there.

Dance was still her talent and her looks hadn’t faded, but her school work took a dive. People called her dumb. Ditzy, if they were being kind. She shoved all her trophies and medals to the back of her closet the first time a boy saw them. He didn’t believe they were hers.

2.

It wasn’t dramatic, what happened. Just a creaky ladder breaking. A body falling to the floor. The carpet had been plush and green, like a freshly mowed lawn on a spring day. Who knew it could be as hard as concrete when hit just right? Brittany didn’t. A whole day went by before she lost consciousness. She didn’t remember much afterwards, just dreamed of lying in soft grass with Santana beside her, both girls giggling at something absurd. It was warm and sunny and she didn’t want to wake up. Santana frowned whenever a dark cloud cast them in shadow.

3.

The first time she woke and held out her hand to link pinky fingers, Santana cried. Brittany could only smile at her. Tears were so silly. Their hands were made to fit together, after all. Didn’t Santana know that? Maybe she didn’t know. Brittany clasped their hands together a in sudden desperation eased by the other girl’s lips pressed against her own, so soft and gentle. Brittany thought their first kiss would feel like fire, but...

They were sweet lady kisses, so different from the boys’. It was nice when they ghosted across her face like Santana loved her.

4.

The state capitals had been the first to go, but it’d been years since she rattled them off in alphabetical order and no one noticed their departure. It wasn’t until her freshman year that Sue Silvester put her through a psychological evaluation no sane doctor would have ever endorsed. Suddenly, she was wearing a red and white Cheerios uniform, uncertain how she ever got it.

“Head Bitches in Charge,” Santana said. “That’s you and me, Britt.”

Brittany laughed at every catty remark her best friend threw at people who were far beneath them on the social ladder of McKinley High.

5.

It was the cat that brought the full extent of the damage to light. The damn cat.

This new difference started out innocently enough. People talk to pets all the time and this seemed no different. Until the cat started talking back. When it died, a funeral was held, complete with a tiny coffin and a couple of the neighborhood children as pallbearers. Brittany’s sister refused to participate, embarrassed by her sister’s apparent psychosis. 

Santana let her cry on her shoulder and handed her tissues. Two days later, a kitten appeared on the Pierce’s doorstep. It read Brittany’s diary at night.

6.

Brittany fell down a rabbit hole but didn’t get her tea party, only chattering rats and slime-coated walls. Her mother’s face was a shadow above as she chanted her daughter’s name like a homing beacon that the girl couldn’t quite reach. It was dark down there and she wandered around, lost for hours until men with bright lights came to pull her out.

She smoothed out the wrinkles in her now dirty clothes, mumbling about ruby slippers and going home.

7.

Dancing made her feel alive. Made her feel powerful. It was what she did best, the one thing Coach Sylvester pushed and pushed for her to improve. The Cheerios practice sessions were tough, rigorous, and pure bliss. This was what she was made for and someday it would get her someplace all her twelve years of school work couldn’t. Coach Sylvester said so.

She was surprised to find she could sing so well, but it didn’t change the fact that dancing was her ticket to-well, she didn’t exactly know where to.

“Away from here,” Santana snorted when asked about it.

8.

Her body was a temple boys-and girls-worshiped at. It wasn’t hard to lure fellow classmates into her bed. The notches in her bedposts were proof. She marked off her and Artie’s time together like she did all the others. But now that mark mocked her, laughed at her ignorance.

Santana said to ignore it, that Wheels wasn’t worth it.

She can’t help but run her hands over that reminder and wonder about what could have been.

Not worth it, Santana repeated. She frowned whenever Artie was brought up, and Brittany would move on to another topic to appease her.

9.

Whenever Brittany prayed, she fell asleep, even though she had so many things to pray for. Her mother prayed for her. Her prayers were never anything Brittany herself would have tried for. She’d heard her speaking softly into her folded palms once, asking God to fix her broken child. Brittany didn’t feel broken. She patted herself down just to make sure.

Mrs. Pierce’s face settled into an odd expression when asked if God was an evil dwarf (‘the world wants to know!’). People did that all the time, even Santana. Except hers was a different kind of confused, one with kisses.

10.

She was staring out the window when Santana woke up and murmured, “Hey, babe.”

The lights were too bright and highlighted the shadows over the sharp angles of her dark complexion. Brittany took hold of the hand held out to her and squeezed tightly. Santana’s wrists were thin sticks, her body simple twigs.

If heart attacks were from loving too much, then what was this from? The doctors used words too big for Brittany to follow. Both their parents never told her more than,’she’s sick.’ Death was confusing and she didn’t like it.

Santana looked sad to go.


	20. Zombies!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's zombies!
> 
> characters: Kurt, Puck, Figgins  
> warnings: character deaths
> 
> for one of the 31 days of Puckurt back on the Kurt/Puck lj community

Kurt shrieked when he bumped into someone else hiding in the dark janitor's closet.

"Don't eat me!"

Strong hands gripped him by the arms.

"Hummel? Jeez, calm down. You want those zombies out there to hear you?"

"Those aren't zombies," Kurt said in a small voice. Zombies weren't real. "Those are our friends."

"Yeah, then why are you hiding in a supply closet?"

"Ummm...I don't want to get infected."

"See! I told you. Zombies!"

Kurt smacked Puck's chest. "They're sick, Puck! We need to call a hospital or the police. Someone who can help them."

"Tried already. Lines are all dead."

"All of them?" Kurt pulled out his own phone but knew even before he dialed 911 that all he'd get was a busy signal. He turned towards the door. "I have to find my dad."

Puck gripped him tighter, his hands like a vise. "Are you crazy? I'm not letting you go out there."

"But my dad-"

"Doesn't want you dead. Or undead, I'm sure."

"But..."

A moan sounded on the other side of the door, causing them both to freeze.

+

"You just killed the principal," Kurt gasped.

Puck smirked at him. "Yeah, Principal Zombie."

"Really, Puck?"

Rolling his eyes, Puck hoisted the shovel onto a shoulder and turned away. "You coming or not? All we need is Berry coming after us, all zombied-out like Figgins here."

Kurt stepped carefully around the bloody zombie body on the floor. "Even dead, she's an overachiever."

When Puck pushed through the double doors leading to the outside world, sunshine flooded the hall in a parody of that morning's clear, bloodless day. Puck paused and looked back to where Kurt stood frozen, then held out his hand to lead him into the new world, such as it was.


	21. I am Batman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Puck is Batman
> 
> characters: Puck as Batman  
> Kurt Hummel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have such a fondness for this 'verse. Shame I could never figure out what to do with it.

Barring a bloody lip and a few bruises, Kurt was doing okay, for a guy taken hostage and tied to a chair. He just couldn't stand how sweaty and grimy his clothes were. Stupid thugs. They had no class.

Said thugs were crowded around a portable TV, all packed inside the tiny office like a can of smelly sardines. Kurt wrinkled his nose just looking at them. When the newswoman on TV started talking about ransom demands, Kurt sighed. He knew his dad would pay anything for his release but he shouldn't have had to. He was a mechanic, for god's sake, not some kind of rich person, like many of the other guys they'd met dealing with politics.

The flicker of a shadow in the distance caught Kurt's eye but it passed quickly, leaving him uncertain if he'd actually seen it in the first place. It could have been just a bird passing across the moon.

"What's that?" One of the thugs straightened and peered upward.

"You're seeing things again, Parker," another said.

Not two seconds later, a cape-wearing figure dropped from the sky. Kurt cheered silently when his captors were taken out one by one. When they all lay unconscious on the concrete floor, strewn there like littered trash, the guy in the batsuit came to stand before Kurt.

"Thank god," Kurt breathed.

"You're welcome," the Batman responded with a cocky smirk.

Kurt's eyes narrowed. "I'm an atheist."

"Yeah? I'm Jewish." The Batman began untying the knots binding Kurt's hands and feet to the chair, then hauled him up firemen-style.

"Hey," Kurt squawked, arms and legs flailing.

Batman smacked him on the ass. "Calm down, babe. This is a rescue."

"I am not a babe."

The Batman dropped so that they were standing side-by-side at the edge of the rooftop. Kurt gasped and latched onto the rubber-clad chest beside him. A hand snaked around his waist, pausing to grope at his backside, and suddenly they were airborne.

Kurt let out one shrill wail of fear, then buried his face against Batman's neck.

"Relax. We're fine-"

The two of them dangled in mid-air and swayed back and forth. The Batman cursed and pulled a cell phone out of his Bat...pocket?

"Hey, you jerk. I thought you said over a hundred feet. This can't be more than fifty."

"I'm going to be sick," Kurt moaned. All this back and forth was making him dizzy.

"That's it. I'm getting Abrams next time." Batman hung up and shifted Kurt so that he was tucked tighter under his arm. "Don't panic."

"Wha-?"

The little contraption keeping them suspended suddenly unlocked and they plummeted downward. Kurt squeezed his eyes shut. With a whirring sound, they were once again swinging back and forth, but kept falling downwards between each swing. It was like a demented George of the Jungle thing.

The world kept moving when Kurt's feet finally met the ground and he clung to Batman's arm, though the superhero-superhero, ha!-tried to shake him off.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, you're grateful-I ain't going to kiss you goodbye, so you can forget that."

Kurt looked at him, both of him, said, "Me Jane, you Tarzan," and fainted.

+

Finn grabbed the remote from the end table at Puck's right and, ignoring Puck's muttered curses, flipped through the channels until he got to a newshow featuring local Gotham residents all dressed up and ready for a night on the town.

Puck leaned forward when he saw a pale young man, still slightly bruised looking, speaking into a microphone.

"Of course," Kurt was saying, "the Batsuit could use some major fashion updates. I mean, who puts nipples into a Batsuit, anyway?" He turned so that he was directly facing the camera. "So please, if you're watching this, for all our sakes-a redesign of your costume is so overdue. That's why I brought this."

Puck groaned when Kurt whipped out a piece of paper which he slowly unfolded to reveal various versions of his Batsuit.

"Are those feathers?" Finn asked.

+

Kurt woke to some noise he couldn't identify. It sounded like a door or a window. Heart leaping to his throat, he sat up and turned his head to the row of windows by his bed. The middle one was open, its billowing curtains framing the silhouette of the Batman.

"You made fun of the suit."

"Please," Kurt said before he could help himself. "Have you looked at that thing in daylight?"

"I am the Bat. That means I work at night."

"Well, maybe 'The Bat' might want to invest in some indoor lighting, 'cause, really, you are so not a winter."

Batman stared at him. Kurt stared back. Finally, he sighed and leaned over to get a card out of his nightstand.

"If you want my advice, call this number and we can work something out."

Batman took the card silently, then turned back to the window, cape flaring in an overly-dramatic way that had Kurt rolling his eyes. He stopped on his way out of the room to say, "No feathers."

Then he leapt off the building into the night, leaving Kurt to hunker down under his covers in a vain attempt to recover those lost, precious minutes of beauty sleep.


	22. I Want to Hold Your Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Season 2.
> 
> Warnings: character death, mental illness
> 
> Before Tale of Two, the Puckurt drabble for one of the 30 Days of Puckurt entries on LJ, this was my first use of A Tale of Two Sisters.

1.

"I'm disappointed in you, Kurt."

Kurt slowed and sighed but ultimately walked out of the shop, leaving his dad behind.

He wasn't there when his father collapsed or when the ambulance came. It was Ms. Pillsbury who told him.

Burt Hummel lay in a hospital bed, pale and unmoving, with wires trailing from his body. The machines surrounding him beeped in a steady, constant stream. It was a low-key sound, but not very soothing. For such a big man, he looked very small right then.

Kurt waited beside him. He didn't believe in prayer, so he simply sat and hoped.

2.

When he returned to school, Mercedes latched onto his arm as soon as he walked through the door.

"Are you sure you're ready to come back?" She looked up at him, apprehension written all over her face.

"Please, Mercedes, I lived at the hospital. I'm just glad to get back to my regular days of dumpster dives and locker slams."

"And you get to see me everyday."

Kurt smiled down at her. "Of course. How could I live without seeing the fabulous Mercedes Jones every day?"

That worried look returned to her face. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. Really."

3.

In glee, everybody fussed over him, making sympathetic noises. Puck even clapped him on the shoulder as he passed by. Mr. Shue made sure to make a big speech about welcoming him back.

Kurt mentally sighed and bit the inside of his cheek in irritation. Despite how many times he muttered, 'I'm fine,' they all acted as if he were made of fragile glass, ready to break at any moment. Rachel, of course, jumped up to sing a song dedicated to him. Annie Lennox's beautiful Into the West.

Kurt didn't get it. It wasn't as if his father had died.

4.

Kurt had to practically run to catch up to Finn's long-legged stride through McKinley's halls. He finally managed to snag the sleeve of the taller boy's letterman jacket and gave it a sharp tug.

Finn stared at him with sympathetic puppy dog eyes. "Kurt. What's up?"

"I need to know when the game starts."

"You're coming to the game? You hate football."

"Yeah, I know, but Dad-"

Finn's perked up as if hit by a sudden realization. "Oh! Yeah, I get it."

Kurt frowned. "Get what?"

"Well, Burt always did like football."

"What?"

Finn ignored Kurt's snapped retort. "Six o'clock."

5.

He'd really thought, after all they'd been through, that Finn had gotten over his homophobic tendencies. Unfortunately, he was wrong, which is why he found himself arguing with his father about Sam Evans.

"Why can't I hold hands with the person I like?" he ranted. "Why can't I slow dance at the prom?"

"Kurt?"

He looked up to see Carole frozen in the kitchen doorway, car keys in one hand, a small bag of groceries in the other. She set the paper bag down on the table. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. Dad and I were just-"

Carole sighed. "Oh, honey."

6.

During study hall, he stared at his textbook in confusion. He hadn't been gone from school that long. He'd hardly missed that many days when his dad was in the hospital. How'd they get so far ahead?

At lunch, Finn shook a small bottle at him. "Mom said to make sure you took these."

Kurt snatched it away, wincing at the loud rattling sound it made. "Thank you, Finn. Could you draw any more attention to the fact I'm on meds now thanks to the recent stress that is my life?"

"Sorry, dude." Finn exchanged wary glances with the others.

7.

Carole was talking quietly in the phone when he came home. She hung up once she saw him breeze through the door on his way to the basement.

"Kurt," she called out. "How was school?"

He paused at his bedroom door. "Fine."

"Did you take your medicine today?"

His lips twisted. "Yeah. Finn made sure I didn't forget."

"Good," she sighed. She came to stand beside him and pet his hair. "You know we love you, right? We just worry so much."

"I'm fine." But his heart beat loudly in his chest and he could feel a headache coming on.

8.

Kurt wished Rachel would stop talking. He could hear her from his spot in the kitchen as she sat in the living room with Finn and rambled on about her future goals. He couldn't help but snort when she reminded Finn of her determination to not have sex until she was twenty-five, when she was ready to have babies and win multiple awards.

"What's so funny?"

Kurt grinned at his father. "Nothing." He peered at the couch. "Does she really think that's fashionable?"

"What, that whole knee sock thing ain't in anymore?"

"No, Dad. It's painful to even look at."

9.

Dinner was quiet. Kurt tried to keep a conversation going, but even his dad was quiet, sipping at his heart-healthy soup and grunting a reply every so often. Kurt looked around at everyone, exasperated.

"What is with everyone today?"

Then he noticed-Carole was crying. She covered her mouth with one hand and fled from the table.

"What did I do?" He looked to Finn for answers but the quarterback was staring at his plate, picking at his food.

"Kurt, don't you remember?" Rachel spoke in a small voice. "Your dad died."

Carole came back with a pill in one hand.

10.

The hospital was terrible. It was filled with people in bad outfits and poor hygiene. Clearly, Kurt didn't belong here. At least his dad came to visit as much as he could. The nurses kept giving him weird looks, though, and their visit was always cut short by one of them forcing a pill or two down his throat. It made him sleepy and disconnected.

Sometimes, Mercedes or one of the other glee kids came. He ignored Carole whenever she visited. If it wasn't for her, he wouldn't be there. How had she convinced his dad that he was sick?


	23. Concertina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From I Can Hear You Singing 'verse. Kurt waits with Blaine for big news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally meant to be a 30 kisses thing but, like everything else I've written but didn't finish, never took off. so I'm moving it here to keep it off my works page.

The stage was bigger than the one Kurt used to play on at Haverbrook, an ocean’s size of a difference. His hands shook as he raised the violin into position, raising the bow, but then he froze, tremor taking over his body.

A sudden movement near the front of the stage caught his attention. Blaine had moved close enough to the stage for Kurt to see him move his hands to form the word,‘Courage.’

Kurt took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and began to play. He lost himself in the music, let it flow from him in rhythmic waves, keeping his eyes shut until the last note was released into the wild. When he opened his eyes, the applause mingled with the sound still traveling up his arm and against his skin where the violin had rested.

For once, he didn’t wish to hear anything. What he felt right then was enough.

Afterwards, Blaine had to fight his way through a crowd of musicians, family, and friends to get to Kurt, who took one look at him and began to make his own path across the room. Once he was close enough, Kurt grabbed Blaine by the shirt collar and pulled him into a deep kiss. Blaine pulled back in surprise at first but then leant into Kurt, able to keep up with Kurt’s boldness.

A brusque finger tapped Kurt’s shoulder and he jerked away to stare, horrified, at his father’s amused face.. Beside him, Blaine’s cheeks turned scarlet.

Burt just smiled and signed, ‘I’m proud of you, Kurt. You did good.’

“Yeah,” Blaine added. “You were the best up there.”

“I froze,” Kurt said.

Blaine laid a hand on his arm. “You didn’t.”

They stood staring at each other until Burt cleared his throat, a sound only Blaine heard. But his reaction caused Kurt to look at Burt, too.

‘Your teacher around here? I need to talk to her before we go.’

“Okay, Dad. I’ll stay with Blaine till you get back.”

Burt shot them one more amused look before he left to find Kurt’s music teacher. Blaine tapped him on the arm.

“I am, too, you know. Proud of you.”

They shared another kiss, this one soft and lingering. Kimmy, bright and bubbly, popped up beside them and immediately started signing. Kurt caught the end part of her congratulations, then grabbed Blaine’s hand and dragged him away before she could keep going. Kurt grabbed his violin from where he’d stored it in the practice room and went to find Burt.

During the drive home, Kurt laced his hand into Blaine’s. Burt could see them from his rearview mirror but made no comment-well, that Kurt couldn’t have heard, anyway. With his free hand, Blaine reached out, touched Kurt’s jaw, and turned his face towards him.

“So,” Blaine asked. “What are you going to do now?”


End file.
